Beneath Snapping Chains
by 0Alykinze0
Summary: Mainly KyoKao. Coarse language, lemony stuff here and there, questionable criminal activity. Kaoru finds himself caught in a nest of lies, jealousy, confusion and lust, all because a certain possessive Shadow King is blackmailing him for something that never existed. But does the Low Blood Pressure Evil Lord have an ulterior motive? "Now to begin your punishment," he smiled.
1. One

**AN:** Hey guys, I'm back. So I'm taking another whack at a multi-chaptered fic, since my first one failed miserably. Second time's a charm, right? I'm trying a different approach - because of my awful writer's block and procrastination, I've already written like 5 chapters of this, and I'm going to try to post them all on a weekly, strict schedule. Hopefully I can stay ahead :/ Don't think this is gonna work, lol. I'll try, though, to be less sporadic and unreliable.

A few things:

The characters Satoshi and Kuze are going to be humongous parts of this story, and since they're manga-only characters, some of you might not know who they are...and you don't really need to. They're basically my way of using OCs without actually using OCs.

Everyone's gay. Cuz it's yaoi. And there are too many pairings to name/give away, so if you're offended by anything you might want to click back now (Although all we're really going to see is KyoKao).

This story is basically a big pile of angsty, romantic, dramatic bullshit, because I love fucking things up for Kaoru. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it xD

Think that's it. Enjoy! **~Aly**

* * *

"Kaoru, let's play a commoner drinking game!"

I glared at the stupid blonde, the sound of his eager but annoying voice bringing a sharp pang to my forehead. I didn't mean to act so bitterly towards him, but I honestly couldn't help myself. He and I had never had problems before this god-forsaken night; up until now his whimsical antics have just bordered on irritating. I was currently standing by at a semi-pleasant buzz while the idiot was wasted beyond rational limits.

I'd never been around Tamaki when he drinks, except for the occasional glass of wine at classy social events. During those times he, like a proper gentlemen, refrained from getting too tipsy. I never thought he could actually be as shitfaced drunk as he was now. Who knew alcohol could do this much damage to my psyche so indirectly?

It was his twentieth birthday, and the entire retired host club had planned a special downtown get-together with him. We had planned to go out to dinner, then go clubbing or out to a bar or two. It was supposed to be a typical, over the top night on the town for us.

Unfortunately for me, and much to Tamaki's devastation, everyone abruptly canceled, except for me. Earlier that day Mori and Honey called to say there was an emergency at the dojo and couldn't make it. Haruhi had come down with an awful fever and wasn't able to even roll out of bed. Kyouya had to reschedule a impertinent meeting, and the only suitable day was today. And most aggravating of all, Hikaru blatantly refused to walk out the door with me that night, grumbling that he had better things to do. I was all alone with the king, and I was certain I was in store for a beheading eventually; I think this guy very well may be the death of me. It was his drunk ass that started everything.

At first it wasn't that bad - Tamaki was kind of miserable for the first half of the evening, but he had his characteristic rapid mood swings every five seconds to liven his spirits again. I felt unbearably awkward, since Tamaki and I had next to no history alone together, so I had no idea how to act. I resolved to just paint a smile on my face and go along with whatever his whims desired; it was his birthday, and everyone had bailed on him. I found it harder to carry on this charade as the night wore on. With every shot of tequila he kept getting more and more melodramatic and emotional. I had to start warning the public before Tamaki even stepped foot in a new bar, because I felt it obligatory to prepare them for the hell that would surely break lose for no apparent reason when he was around. If anybody thought Tamaki was ridiculous and extravagant when he was sober, they were in for a rude awakening.

So now, as we finally settled back into his mansion in the wee hours of the morning, my irritation level was high. I couldn't keep my aggravation off my face; by this point I assumed he was too blasted to notice my attitude. I was careful to avoid excessive amounts of alcohol, unlike Tamaki, who was literally taking shots like they were free kittens. I wanted to at least remember what happened in the morning, and maybe someday, decades in the future, I would be able to laugh about this whole thing.

I raised an eyebrow at his suggestion, mumbling, "Take it easy, Milord." The last thing he needed was more poison. Honestly, the potency alcohol had on his system was unprecedented. He was practically dead.

His face was suddenly enraged, yet playful at the same time. "You're just scared of my incredible talents in the art of commoner games!" He accused, narrowing his eyes in defiance. I wanted to smack him. So. Hard. He couldn't shut his mouth for five seconds, and I was utterly drained. "No mere mortal could possibly defeat the great Tamaki Suoh in a drinking game!" He proclaimed.

"You've got that right," I muttered under my breath while holding back a snide remark, and without waiting for a formal reply from me, he stumbled out of the room, slurring, "I'll get the tequila!" I was about to reluctantly chase after him - after all, his staircase was steep, and there'd be real hell to pay if I didn't return the idiot in perfect condition - when my phone rang shrilly from his bedside table. I deliberated quickly - which was more important, Tamaki's physical wellbeing and health, or whoever was calling me?

I meandered over to the nightstand, slowly flipping open my phone. "Yeah?" I asked tiredly, yawning.

"Kaoru. I need those cosplay order forms you and your brother are working on by tomorrow." I recognized the monotone as Kyouya's.

I internally groaned. Why was he calling me this late anyway? Didn't the demon lord ever sleep? Probably not. With a terse nod to no one in particular, I barked, "Alright, fine. Is that it?"

There was a brief pause before he answered. "I suppose so. Though I'd rather prefer them as soon as possible. Are you still with Tamaki?"

I wrinkled my nose. All he cared about was work, the selfish bastard. "Yeah. And it sucks. But don't tell him I said that. You assholes broke his heart enough as it is."

Before I could hear his retort Tamaki leapt into the room, beaming. My heart dropped in disappointment that he was able to find his way back up here. "Uh, I'll talk to you tommorow," I rushed into the receiver before Tamaki suddenly tackled me to the ground, my phone and the alcohol flying out of our hands and onto the bed. He straddled my waist, giggling like a maniac. My head rushed, suddenly dizzy.

"What the hell are you doing?" I screeched, trying weakly to push him off. Had the booze given him super strength or something? His grip was iron tight.

He pinned my arms to the carpet roughly and exclaimed with a grin, "Let's have a tickle fight!" Holy fuck. Not that. My eyes widened. I hated the glint in his eyes; this was dangerous territory for a variety of reasons. Tamaki's tickling skills were rumored to be notoriously deadly.

"What? No!" I tried to protest firmly, but he soon unforgivably had me absolutely dying with laughter. Tickling was one of my weak spots; I could never resist it. I couldn't do anything but squirm uncomfortably underneath him while I ached with dull giggles. In the back of my mind I noticed how intimate this was - not that I had any problem with physical contact, but his weight bearing on my pelvis was beginning to get uncomfortable. Not to mention the way his sinister fingers squeezed my skin until I could hardly breathe.

His hands slowed to a sudden stop, and with a breathtaking smile still on my face I exhaled, grateful for the relief as I let the last chuckles die out. I mentally noted to strangle him later.

Moments of stillness passed, and I dully noticed his intense stare into my eyes. I wrinkled my brow and was about to ask him what was wrong when he suddenly leaned down and kissed me. It was a soft, yet urgent kiss, and I couldn't do anything but freeze in shock. His lips were almost frenzied against mine, but were disconnected in a kind of way; I felt like a doll was kissing me. My breath was caught short, and I tried to decode his actions in my head. That was unexpected.

After a short moment he pulled away almost violently, clutching a hand to his mouth, his eyes piercing in horror. I'd never seen him so guilty before; he looked like he'd just committed homicide. I was still in shock, but I wasn't angry at him in the slightest - I was just curious to know why he did it, and why he looked so upset.

"I'm so sorry," he groaned, his eyes tearing up. I stared incredulously at him, my stomach twisting. If things were awkward before, this was downright unsettling. "It's just that you...I mean, you look like him, I guess...you were just so, you know...when you laughed..." his pained eyes silently pleaded at me.

I offered him a small smile, sitting up and trying to reassure him. "It's not a big deal," I insisted, attempting to console him. He started trembling, and I laid a hand on his shoulder. Why was he acting so mortified?

"Don't cry," I begged as a small tear slid down his cheek. Damn him and his pmsing. What the hell was going on? "I'm not angry, it really isn't that bad," I persuaded urgently. I didn't want to have to handle this right now.

"It is, though," he whispered, his voice shaking. He visibly averted my eyes.

In a flash he grabbed the discarded tequila bottle from its sprawl on the bed, simultaneously chucking me my phone. I absentmindedly turned it off, slipping it into my jeans. I hesitated, then gently asked through clenched teeth, "What do you mean?"

He stared at me, his expression dumbfounded. In an agonized tone he stammered, "W-well, I'm seeing s-someone," as he popped the cap.

If the kiss was surprising, this knocked me clear off my feet. I'd known Tamaki for years; ever since that fateful day in middle school up until now, well into university. I thought I had known his personality like the back of my hand; I thought I could predict every single move and word he would ever say. Never in our friendship would I have guessed he could say that. "What?" I gasped, looking at him like I was seeing a whole other person. "Who? For how long? Does anybody else know?" I pressed, searching his face for clues. This was big.

He shifted, wringing his hands and looking at the wall. He looked calmer, but still on edge. "Nobody knows, except you, I guess," he mumbled, biting his lip. I internally cursed. Now a huge burden weighted on my shoulders; how was my huge mouth and I supposed to keep this kind of a secret? "We've been going out for...um, a year, I think." Jesus Christ. He continued in a sharp chide, "And I can't tell you who it is. It isn't fair to them." I was taken off guard by how serious he had become. This wasn't normal Tamaki.

I stayed silent for a moment, then blurted, "Does that mean it's someone I know?"

He stopped. In a barely audible whisper he affirmed, "Yes."

"Holy shit," I murmured, at a loss for words. Who could it be? As an up and coming fashion designer, I knew a lot of people. I couldn't think of an acquaintance of mine that would do this. Dating secretly for an entire year? That must be difficult. "Why aren't you telling anyone?" I wondered.

"My grandmother wouldn't approve," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He took a swig of the tequila bottle, and I couldn't bring myself to bitch at him for it. "His family would approve of it, I think," he shot me a quick look before continuing, "But we're going to wait until I inherit the company before going public."

I mused over his words, trying in vain to narrow down the possibilities. I wasn't getting very far. Besides, why did I want to know? This was Tamaki's business after all. He was probably too drunk to think straight anyway. I still had one last question. In a wary voice, I said quietly, "Why did you kiss me, Milord?"

He flinched, tapping his fingers against the carpet restlessly. With a cringe he admitted, "You reminded me of him when you were laughing...we're in the middle of a really big, stupid fight right now. I don't know. I miss him. And he's going to kill me for this...oh god, he's really going to break up with me this time," he moaned, burying his face in his hands. I sighed. No wonder he was purposefully getting so drunk tonight; he wanted to forget about that fight or whatever. It all made sense now. He was just really confused, and lost, and hurting.

I shrugged and scooted closer to him. With a small breath I awkwardly winded my arms around him, attempting some kind of maternal comfort thing. In a hushed tone I soothed, "Sempai, listen to me. I want you to call him tomorrow, okay? Tell him you're sorry about the fight - even if it wasn't your fault - and that you just want to make up and be happy again. If he truly loves you, he'll apologize too, and this whole thing will blow over. You'll laugh about how stupid and dramatic it was. As for tonight..." I hesitated, hoping my advice wouldn't come to bite me in the ass. "Don't tell him about anything. And don't feel bad about it either - nothing even really happened. You were wasted and fucking irritating as hell, but it was all harmless. Even so...our secret, okay?"

I childishly held out my pinky to him. After a moment he securely linked his pinky to mine and whispered, "I promise." Silence ensued. I caught a glimpse of the clock; it was ridiculously late, and all I wanted to do was crawl in bed. He seemed to be lost in thought, his eyes glazed over and staring at the carpet. With a tentative voice, I suggested innocently, "Hey, why don't we call it a night? You look like you could use some sleep."

He brightened, and smiled half heartedly at me. "That's probably a good idea," he sighed, and clumsily got to his feet. Even I had to focus a bit to stand up - I wasn't blasted, but I was buzzed enough for my head to go in and out of fuzziness. Without asking his permission I nearly dragged him to his bed. He stumbled along after me, and sort of giggled when I threw him down on the bed and started undressing him. I left him in his boxers, figuring he could do the rest if he really wanted to change.

I thought he had passed out as I turned to leave, but I felt a tug on my wrist and looked down. He crushed me in a tight hug and squealed into my ear, "Thanks, Kaoru. I think you really helped me." After a second thought, he added seriously, "Not that someone as magnificent as me needs helping." He was literally suffocating me to the point of unconsciousness.

"Don't mention it," I grumbled, struggling out of his clutches. I could feel my tolerance slipping away with every passing second. "Now, go to bed." He finally complied, falling back on his pillows. I could've sworn I heard snores by the time I reached his bedroom door.

I navigated through the pitch black house stealthily, my heartbeat increasing as I furthered the distance between me and him. I waited until I was behind the wheel of my parked car to explode.

"What the fuck?" I screeched at my steering wheel, punching the dashboard angrily. Why did it have to be me? And what even happened tonight? I was so frustrated with everything that I almost hoped my drunkenness caused a crash, just so I could stop my reeling mind. God knows I was way over the limit.

Nothing ever went my way.

I tiptoed into my room at about five in the morning, a pink tinge of annoyance still plastered on my cheeks. I tried not to think about the last few hours; I was too disoriented to really process anything. On the ride home I couldn't help puzzling over his behavior. For all I knew he was just drunk and sprouting out meaningless garbage. After all, who could tell what was real and what was fantasy when it came to him?

I mused silently for a few moments, random thoughts plaguing and polluting my mind. I groped around in the dark for pajama bottoms as I started to undress. Thank the heavens it was Sunday tomorrow.

The light flicked on behind me, and I nearly died of a heart attack. I spun around to face my intruder, my shirt half over my head, my breath caught in my throat. Hikaru was sitting tersely in an armchair, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. Seething, I bunched my shirt up into a ball and threw it at his face. He didn't even flinch. "You scared the shit out of me!" I hissed.

His stony expression didn't change. "Why were you out so long?" I stiffened. He was still in his day clothes, and looked like he'd been sitting there for hours. His eyes were cold and hollow. I didn't like the suspicion evident on his face - was I the bad guy now? His attitude was starting to tick me off.

"I was busy babysitting Milord. And thanks for abandoning me, by the way, my entire night was a living hell."

He cringed. "What did you do anyway?"

I hesitated, turning my back on him to resume getting dressed. Fingering the cotton of my pajama pants, I replied carefully, "Nothing, we just drank and partied. And it was awful." I heard him scoff bitterly behind me. I whirled around to face him, my anger bubbling to the surface. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I demanded. "Why are you being such a dick? Why do you even care?"

"Why are you being so defensive?" He shot, bolting up to stare me down. He opened his mouth to scream at me further, but then a sudden look washed across his face. He bit his lip, his expression still unabashedly furious. After a second he grumbled, "Whatever. I'm going to bed." He stormed out of my room.

I was going to stop him, but a sudden wave of vertigo washed over me. To hell with him; he would figure out whatever inter turmoil was bothering him. I craved sleep badly. Sleep was my chosen coping mechanism for life in general. I flopped on the bed, not caring enough to finish dressing or even get under the blankets. Screw comfort.

And so I resolved to block out the world for a few blissful hours.

* * *

My head was pounding in the morning - or rather around noon, which was the time I woke up. My memories from the previous night were prominent, but murky. Maybe, hopefully, I had imagined the whole thing.

After barking at the twin maids to bring me truck loads of aspirin, my phone gave off a shrill ding that offended my sensitive ears. With a grimace I flipped open my phone, seeing I received a text.

_ From: Kyouya _

_Could you come over for a quick consultation as soon as possible? It's urgent. _

Consultation? What was this, intervention, or therapy or something? I groaned, tossing my phone across the room and rubbing my aching head.

Once my maids returned with the numbing medicine I felt a little better, but still was dreading having to deal with the Shadow King. No doubt he was going to nag my ear off about profits or budgets or other uninteresting crap. It was probably the damming cosplay paperwork he was bitching about. I eventually dragged myself in. the shower, deciding to get it over with. About half an hour later I was as ready as I could be to head out. I passed Hikaru's room on the way out; I hadn't spoken with him since last night, but I decided to leave him alone. I knew my brother got insanely jealous over everything and always held petty grudges, but in time he'd let it go. Besides, I could use some alone time as well.

I drove rather recklessly to Kyouya's estate, speeding when it wasn't necessary. After nearly mauling every pedestrian in the city, I finally arrived at the polished gates of the bland mansion. I punched in my personal visitor's code and accelerated to the driveway.

Kyouya called a soft, "Come in," as I knocked on his door after situating myself in the residence. I tensely thanked the butler who escorted me to his room and took a deep breath, inching the door open quietly.

* * *

**AN:** So? Next chappie is where things start heating up. Mm-hm. And by heating up I mean drama. No smut for a little while, kiddies.

Review if you could! It would make my spring break! :D

Hasta la pasta **~ Aly**


	2. Two

**AN: **Wow. Lots of stuff happened this week. To make a long story short, I'm moving, and I don't know what that means as far as internet access. Joy. And I just read the most amazingly well-written and gut-wrenchingly tragic fanfic ever, which makes me doubt my own writing, lol. In any case, hope you enjoy this chappie, and thanks to everyone who has alerted/favorited/reviewed. **~Aly**

* * *

He was sitting on his leather couch, his laptop perched in his lap. He was punching away random keys as usual, never taking his eyes off the screen for a moment. I awkwardly hovered in the doorway.

"Take a seat," he offered cordially, pausing to gesture at the couch across from his. The atmosphere in his room was extremely stiff; everything smelled like fresh paper and ink.

I ambled over to the coffee table and smacked down the paperwork he asked me for. Trying not to sound rude I evaded, "I actually have some stuff to do today-"

"What do you need to do, exactly?" He mumbled, interrupting me.

I racked my brain for an excuse. "Hikaru and I-" I started, but he cut me off again.

"If my status reports are precise, which they are, your brother is currently assisting your father in preparations for the next Hitachiin fashion show in Europe, and shouldn't be finished for about two hours. I'm fairly positive you have no plans for the time being - if you'd like we could keep arguing on the subject, but since I'll just prove you wrong time and time again, let's just skip the feuding and get down to business. Besides, I'm sure you'll find my company very interesting."

I raised an eyebrow at him. That was kind of forward. I assumed he just didn't want to waste time - after all, being Kyouya, he probably had tons of work he needed to get done today. Internally cursing I slouched onto the edge of the couch, ready to leave at moment's notice.

At the sound of my submission he finally closed his laptop and set it to the side. Pushing his glasses up his nose he retrieved the paperwork from the table, examining them uninterestedly for a millisecond. He stood up and walked over to one of the many file cabinets, sorting them accordingly.

"Can I leave now?" I asked impatiently, starting to get nervous. Everything about him was intimidating.

"Not quite," he said softly, and turned back towards me. There was a slight smile on his face; at that point in time he truly resembled the devil himself. I had never seen Kyouya so happy, yet so mischievous at the same time. He reminded me of myself, which scared me to death.

I watched anxiously as he slowly slipped off his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. A chill ran down my shoulders, and I subconsciously hugged my arms to my chest.

"Kaoru," he started pleasantly, sauntering over to me. "There is one more thing I'd like to discuss with you."

"Why'd you take off your glasses?" I blurted, unable to help myself.

The horrifying smirk was back. "Glasses give me a sense of professionalism. So, whenever I deal with something that is unprofessional or doesn't concern work, I often take my glasses off to differentiate."

His eyes shone with pure death. _What the hell?_ I complained to myself, tapping my knee. I was suddenly very jittery.

"Well, what is it?" I snapped.

He again sat down across from me, this time fishing through his pockets and uncovering a small device. "Kaoru, do you know what this is?" He inquired gently.

I studied it for a second, and then said hesitantly, "A tape recorder." Where was he going with this?

"And what do tape recorders do?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Just answer the question."

An annoyed pang in my forehead sprouted. I was about to reply something snarky but bit my tongue. "They record things. Sounds," I said obviously.

He turned the thing over in his hands, running the pads of his fingers over the clean metal. Absentmindedly he continued, "Yes, they record things. I myself have become very accustomed to tape recorders. I find them to have a very profitable merit. You can use them to your advantage in almost any situation..." He trailed off, eyeing me.

I met his gaze reluctantly, confused and mildly creeped out. His index finger hovered over the 'play' button. In a calloused hum he mumbled under his breath, "Listen to this for a moment, won't you? Tell me what you hear." There was a hint of triumph in his tone.

He seemed to be expecting a response, so I unwittingly nodded. His finger closed down on the button.

First there was nothing. Then a bit of unsteady breathing, wrinkling of fabrics. It was mostly white noise, and unidentifiable nothings. Getting a bit ticked off, I raised an eyebrow and began, "I just hear-" but was cut off abruptly by my own voice crackling through the miniature speakers.

"Why did you kiss me?"

I blushed, instantly mortified; my voice was huskier and more labored but unmistakably mine. I held my breath as more strange noises continued.

Next Tamaki's voice cracked the silence. It was high, desperate, and raspy. "Because I want you."

I flushed even deeper, hot bubbles of embarrassment rising up my chest. What the hell was going on? I peeked at Kyouya; he seemed to be enjoying my reaction. I froze, unable to speak as a longer pause ensued while the heavy panting increased.

There were odd, quick noises for a second, then a hitch of breath and a slight gasp. "Ungh, Tamaki..." my voice whimpered.

"What the fuck is this?" I roared, jumping off the leather.

His disturbing, conniving grin only grew as the wanton panting and moaning continued from the speakers. "Nn...agh! Kaoru!"

I clasped a hand over my mouth, almost shaking with a mix of mortification and anger. "Turn it off!" I hissed from behind my hands, groaning.

Surprisingly he complied, pressing the stop button just as the moans seemed to reach their high point.

I didn't speak; I had no idea what to say. Whatever I was expecting wasn't that.

He waited, crossing his arms over his chest. I paced around the area at a snail's crawl, trying to get over my shock. After several moments I growled, "What the fuck was that, Sempai?"

He shrugged, feigning indifference. "You tell me," he answered simply.

I spun around to face him, livid. "None of that...it never happened!" I protested, seething.

"How do you know?" He challenged, standing up. "You two were wasted last night. Anything could've happened. I've already talked to Tamaki today, and he claims he doesn't remember anything from last-"

"Wait, you talked to him?" I screeched, my heart pounding. "Did you show him this?" I demanded.

"Of course not," he chided like it was obvious. "There was no reason to. He doesn't remember anything, as I was saying, so in his mind none of this ever happened."

"Because it didn't," I insisted, bunching my fingers into fists. And why did he even care? What was going on?

"That may be true," he admitted, walking to stand directly in front of me, "After all, it would be unimaginably easy to take an innocent segment of audio and edit it into something not so innocent. So easy, in fact, that I happen to have all of the appropriate software right on my laptop. It would've only taken me a few measly hours to create something as scandalous as this." I gasped, livid. So much for being subtle. He rambled on as if I had been silent.

"So, in that sense, it's absolutely plausible that none of that happened, and that this entire audio file is counterfeit. But if someone were to listen to this without considering the possibility of it being fake, they would immediately jump to the wrong conclusion, right? You did." He pointed out. So many thoughts were swarming my head. He was going to blackmail me with this thing. But why?

A random questioned popped in my mind, and I demanded, "Where did you even get the basis for this?"

"Ah," he sighed, tapping my nose playfully with his finger. I wrinkled my nose, cringing away from his touch. "That part is entirely your fault. You recall the phone call between us last night? It seems you simply forgot - or was otherwise distracted - to hang up the phone. I managed to hear an exchanging of words between the two of you, and thought I could use it to my advantage, so I taped the conversation. If you had just ended the call last night, none of this would've ever happened."

I wanted to smack myself. But how could I have known what would happen because of that? I knew for a fact Tamaki and I didn't have sex that night - all of my memories were completely intact. It was that stupid tickle fight. And that kiss...but I knew we didn't do anything beyond that.

In strangled tone I forced out, "Why?"

He eyed me thoughtfully. Inching his face closer to mine, he said in a voice barely above a whisper, "I needed a way to get you to do my bidding. You see, I have certain...tasks I need to get done that I have concluded only you can help me with." I raised an eyebrow warily. That couldn't be good.

"If you obey me, all of this can pass smoothly, and nobody needs to get hurt. We can keep this audio file from ever going public. However..." His tone sunk a couple notches. I couldn't breathe. "If you rebel against me, I won't hesitate to expose this to everyone. Your family friends, coworkers...how will you ever make it in the fashion industry if something like this was discovered?"

He began to slowly circle around me, like a shark studying its prey. I stared at the carpet, trying to ignore his footsteps. "How would your friends and family react? Imagine how Hikaru would take it - his own brother whoring around with one of his best friends, and keeping it a secret? And Tamaki - he seemingly lost his virginity when he was beyond blasted to his best friend, who didn't even tell him. He won't take that very well, will he?"

He stopped in front of me once more. "Now, if you'd just submit to me now, none of this will ever happen. It's your decision." I didn't know what to think. I couldn't process anything.

I stayed silent, refusing to meet his eyes. He lifted my chin up and I flinched, biting my lip. He scrutinized my expression, then said softly, "You have 24 hours."

Without waiting for anything more I bolted out of the room, nearly jogging to my car. I never once looked back.

Once there I sped out of the estate, trying to control myself. Why was he doing this? What did he want me to do for him? I couldn't believe this was happening, at least not from Kyouya. It was so...dirty.

He was actually blackmailing me. This wasn't a joke.

I thought of my options. If I refused him, everyone would listen to the tape. I could always deny everything and tell them the truth, but who would believe me? That seemed like what someone with a guilty conscience would try to do, and I didn't have the best reputation. The tape sounded extremely realistic. Besides, Kyouya was unfairly manipulative and persuading; he could get anyone to believe whatever he wanted.

I couldn't go to the police, because his family controlled the entire force; they wouldn't be any help, and the moment Kyouya found out I turned to the authorities, he'd release the tape. I was trapped.

There was also something that I wasn't entirely sure Kyouya knew about - Tamaki was in a relationship. I was positive I turned off my phone before Tamaki confessed that to me, so Kyouya didn't know in that sense. I wasn't sure if he had already figured it out, though - Tamaki was incredibly easy to read, and they were best friends. Whether or not all that was just drunken nonsense on his part, I wasn't sure -but if he actually was seeing somebody, this tape would destroy both their relationship and my friendship with him. I couldn't let that happen.

If I gave in...What would that mean? What plans did he have for me? If he was willing to go to these lengths just to get me to be controlled by him, it couldn't be good. Would he actually be willing to almost destroy the life of not only me, but Tamaki as well?

I shivered whenever I thought about Hikaru's reaction. I absolutely couldn't let it get that far. It was too terrifying to think about. He'd probably castrate me with a bull hook.

I finally pulled into the driveway of our mansion. I sat in the car for a few seconds, resting my head against the steering wheel. Everything had changed so suddenly in such little time.

I tittered out of the car as a chauffeur jumped in to drive my car around to the garage. I inched up the marble steps to our front door, dragging my feet.

Once inside I had a sudden urge to see Hikaru. I knew I couldn't tell him about what was going on, but he always made me feel better. I navigated through the hallways to his master bedroom on the third floor.

The door was cracked open, letting a ray of light cascade into the dim hall. I was about to knock when I heard his voice float from inside. Who was he talking to?

"Intuition, huh?" He was saying teasingly. I had to reconsider his voice, somewhat unsure it was his. I had never heard him use that tone before. It was so...sweet. So sweet it was nauseating.

"Well...intuition or divine intervention or otherwise...I'm really glad you called. I can't believe what a dumbass I've been lately." A thought popped into my head. No. It couldn't be. It was impossible. Holy shit.

A pause. Then, in a voice dropping with uncharacteristic affection, "Yeah...I know. Okay. I love you too. Bye." Fuck.

As soon as he hung up I burst into the room. My expression must have been terrifying, because he jumped a foot in the air from his sprawl on the bed and looked at me sharply. "What the hell, Kaoru! You can't just barge in here like that!" His face was nervous, and guilty. Or maybe his face was totally normal and calm; maybe my imagination was just at works again. I hoped so.

"Who was that on the phone?" I asked hollowly, my voice not sounding like my own. I fought to keep it steady. This can't be happening.

He fidgeted, and instead of answering my question he muttered, "How long were you listening?"

"Hikaru-" I started harshly, but he jumped off the bed and headed towards the bathroom, ignoring me completely.

"It was Mom," he insisted frantically, not looking at me. "She says she loves you and will be back from Europe in a few weeks. That's all."

"Mom's not in Europe," I countered dully. "She's in New York."

"Same thing," he dismissed distractedly. In a rushed mumbled frenzy he said, "I'm gonna hop in the shower, okay?" With that, he shut the bathroom door in my face.

With a sinking heart I turned back towards the bed as the water started running. His phone was still there. My fingers shaking, I picked it up, running my thumb over the cover. I took a deep breath and flipped it open.

I scrolled to recent calls, mentally cursing myself. I was just being silly. It couldn't be true. Of course not.

I clicked on the received tab.

Fucking. Shit.

All Tamaki.

I threw the phone back on the bed like it scorched my fingers. I sort of stood there, letting it sink in as my skin trembled from the onslaught of emotions that attacked me.

Tamaki was going out with my brother.

Neither of them told me until last night, which really pissed me off.

Tamaki didn't remember telling me about their relationship, so they both think it's a total secret.

Kyouya may or may not know about that relationship. Either way, if the tape gets out, it hurts both of them in more ways than one, because they'll both believe we had sex.

I really had no choice now. I whipped out my phone, dialing as fast as I could.

He answered on the first ring, his voice smug yet light. "That was fast," he answered briskly. "So?"

I took a deep breath. I hated my life. Maybe I should just kill myself now. "I'll do it." I managed before hanging up on him, trying to make the ending dial tone convey my frustration.

I paused, deliberating. I hurriedly called my predetermined emotional support.

"Kao-chan?" He answered brightly. I felt a little bit calmer. But not by much.

"Honey-sempai," I mumbled, my voice breaking, "Can I come over?"

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**AN: **Please tell me your thoughts! I adore reviews. I'd also love to hear your predictions, because my plot is still under development. See you next week, ¡Basta la pasta! (Which would be something like "Enough of the pasta? Interpretation from a Spanish 4 student, you espanol aficionados can give me your input, rofl).


	3. Three

**AN: **Hey guys! Thanks for the continued support. Huggles to you all :-) I was in a major Kaoru x Honey mood when I wrote this, haha. Just read the manga and you'll see what I mean.

Can't really think of anything else to say...my heart goes out to all those affected by the Boston Marathon bombings, this is dedicated to you! Enjoy. Satoshi's in this, bitches. **~Aly**

* * *

"Neh, sempai!" I wailed, crushing him in a hug.

He squirmed in my arms, squeaking to let him go. I did, letting him fall to the ground as I wiped a stray tear from my eye. I had just arrived at the Haninozuka manor, and I had tackled Honey immediately after stepping foot inside his plush room. Used to this kind of behavior from me, he shut the door and asked in a concerned tone, "What's wrong, Kao-chan? You haven't been this sad since you and Hika-chan had that big fight!"

I sat cross-legged on his fluffy carpet, scrubbing away the tears that had escaped my eyes. He sat opposite of me, looking troubled. Hugging my knees I sniffled, "I can't tell you, sempai."

He looked at me with tears glistening in his big brown eyes. "Don't cry!" He chirped, and began racing around the room. He dug through his toy chest and started flinging stuffed animals at me. "Here, take Buta-chan!" He exclaimed, throwing a stuffed pig at me. "And Zou-chan! And here's Usa-chan too!"

I hugged the toys close to my chest, burying my face in the soft fabric. I sighed. Honey could always help me. He was my personal therapist whenever things got bad. And this was fucking bad. "Can you tell me anything about what's wrong?" He pressed, eyes wide. "Is it Hika-chan again?"

I hesitated, biting my lip. "It's just everything, sempai." I tried to be as vague as possible. The last thing I wanted was to drag him or Mori into this. "Life, I guess. I think I'm just making a lot of wrong choices."

He tapped his chin, racking his head for advice. "Well, I think the only thing you can do is just make right choices from now on. What makes you think you're making wrong decisions?"

I scrunched my face up, frowning at him. "I already told you, sempai, it's a secret."

He studied me for a moment, then bounced up and trotted over to the walk-in refrigerator that was in his room. He emerged with a spring in his step and two large cakes. He knew what I liked - the one he tossed me was some sort of pumpkin spice, while he had some kind of chocolate and strawberry montage.

We dug in while he let me ramble on and on about my problems, while I tried to hide the actual specifics. Each time I'd get teary - something that almost always seemed to happen around Honey - he would frantically throw me another stuffed animal or blanket or cake. After a few minutes of my mostly incoherent babbling he said in a perplexed tone, "So you did something that could hurt a whole bunch of our friends?"

"No," I moaned miserably around a forkful of cake, entwining my fingers in the fibers of the rug, "It just seems like I did. But I didn't. And everyone will think I did if something happens with this person, which really sucks, and I really didn't even do anything in the first place, but this person is going to make it seem like that for whatever reason, I don't know why, and that person doesn't even know about these other people which I know about, so if my thing gets out he won't know if it hurt them in that way or not, which I did not do but they wont know that if he finds out, or maybe he does know, but either way this sucks and I can't take it anymore sempai!" I finished with a shriek, pulling him into my arms again. He flailed there for a moment before I released him and replaced his small frame with various stuffed animals.

Dusting himself off he peeped, "Kao-chan, you're not really making sense."

"I know," I groaned, falling back onto his plush carpet. He laid down adjacent to me, cuddling with Usa-chan. "Well..." He started, nuzzling into the bunny, "I think you should relax a little bit, Kao-chan. I think maybe you're making the situation bigger than it needs to be. Maybe it's really not that important, and you're working yourself up for nothing."

"But it is," I complained. "You know I'm not like Milord." I hoped he didn't notice my cringe when I said his name. "I don't make things bigger than they need to be. But this one's big."

He sighed, looking down. I closed my eyes, cradling the stuffed animals like they were my lifelines. I felt like I hadn't felt this warm in weeks. It felt good to let out all this steam.

"Life sucks, huh, sempai?" I asked offhandedly.

"Sometimes..." He allowed, looking distracted.

He suddenly met my eyes, his chestnut irises wide. "Kao-chan, did you know I used to have a crush on you in high school?"

A course of surprise shot through me. "N-no," I stammered, completely taken aback. I really liked Honey, and we were extremely close in high school, but I would've never guessed he liked me. I didn't have a problem with him having a crush on me; in fact, I was flattered, in a weird way. But why? It was so random. "Really?" I wondered, too dumbfounded to say anything else.

"Yup!" He smiled brightly. "It was just a small crush. I thought it was really cute how you were learning to break away from Hika-chan and live by yourself. And you also liked cute things too, which was great!"

I blushed a little bit, and with a grin I asked, "Why didn't you tell me, sempai?"

He shrugged playfully, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. With a strong smile he answered, "There was a lot of drama back then, too, between you and Hika-chan and Haru-chan. I didn't want to make it worse, so I kept my feelings to myself. And I told myself that if you were happy, I was happy; and things worked out, so I must've done the right thing!"

I bit the inside of my cheek, tracing the stitches in a stuffed elephant's face. "You should've just told me. It's not good to hold in your feelings."

"But don't you see?" He squeaked, snuggling into the carpet, "I didn't hold in my feelings, I held them back. I just told you my feelings now, didn't I? Back in high school was a bad time for me to tell you, because it only would've made things more confusing for all of us."

"But it's too late now," I argued.

"Too late for what?" He giggled, scooting closer to me. "I don't think we would've dated or anything. It was just a tiny crush; and besides, we don't suit each other very well."

I flushed a deep scarlet as he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. I brushed the spot self-consciously as he continued with a grin, "I love you Kao-chan, but it wasn't meant to be. We're supposed to love each other in a super best buddies way, you know?"

I laughed in spite of myself. "Super best buddies for life, okay?" I agreed, and he squealed and hugged me tightly around my waist.

Sitting up, I tried to smooth down my hair. In a more serious tone I whispered, "But what are you really trying to say, sempai?"

He considered it for a moment, and then said slowly, "I think you should do all you can to make the situation better, regardless of your true feelings. Then when all of this is over with, you can tell everyone how you really feel. Just play along for now, and everything will be alright soon enough."

I nodded, standing up and stretching. With a sigh I helped him up and smiled, "Thanks. You always help me feel better, Honey- sempai. I'll do my best."

"No problem, Kao-chan!" He beamed. "You know you're always welcome here!"

I started towards the door, feeling energized and more confident. "I'll see you next time, okay?" I offered, and he nodded happily. I shook my head in teasing exasperation as he ran headfirst into the walk-in fridge, no doubt searching for more cake. I walked casually out of the room, taking a deep breath.

As soon as I shut the door behind me, I bumped into and knocked over something that was very much human.

We both tumbled to the ground - I happened to land in an awkward sprawl over its body. After a second of deep silence I scrambled off, meeting its eyes for the first time.

"Satoshi!" I exclaimed in genuine surprise. He looked mystified as well. "Long time no see!" I said happily, offering a hand to help him up. "Sorry about that," I added sheepishly.

Baffled, he stuttered brightly, "S-sempai! I haven't seen you in forever! How've you been?"

I shrugged, sticking my hands in my jean pockets. "I've been better. You?"

"Same," he grimaced knowingly.

We sort of just stood there awkwardly for a moment. I didn't know Satoshi that well, especially after graduation - I'd probably seen him twice since entering college. In my mind he was still just Mori's little brother; but he'd proven to be a good friend in tough times. After a bit of apprehension he offered tentatively and out of the blue, "Listen, do you want to get out of here? Yasuchika and I were going to go to that new coffee shop downtown, but he just canceled, so..." He smiled, looking a little nervous.

I returned the smile, trying not to seem intimidating. I didn't feel like I had the right to be intimidating, since I was only a year younger than him, but I knew what it was like to be a naive underclassman. "I'd love to," I replied on a whim. Why not? I could use a little getaway. And I wasn't feeling so depressed anymore.

He drove, winding through the busy city streets expertly. To break the tension I tried, "So how's Ouran? Is senior year going well?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "It's kind of hectic, what with choosing a college and all...how about you? You're studying at Ouran University, right?"

"Yeah," I echoed, "It's hectic on my end too."

He flashed me a smirk. "My hectic is worse than your hectic."

"You wanna bet?" I laughed, somewhat bitterly. "I'll prove you wrong."

He shrugged, accepting my challenge. We rolled up to a red light slowly. He turned to face me, his hair ruffled and windswept childishly. "Fine, then. Shoot."

I opened my mouth with a cocky smile, then immediately closed it after coming to my senses. I realized it was in both his and my best interest to keep my mouth shut about my current situation. It was the only safe way - Satoshi reminded me of a mix between Hikaru and Milord. He was lovable and carefree, but also had a devilish side to him. And since I didn't know him that well, I wasn't completely sure I could trust him or not. I decided to give him the same answer I gave Honey. "It's a secret," I answered lamely, my ego slipping a few notches. Before he could protest, I continued, "What about you?"

He scowled at me. With a twist in his tone he echoed, "It's a secret." Then he instantly brightened with a triumphant, coy grin. He started rolling up one of his thin sweater sleeves with an arrogant air of confidence. With a chuckle he announced, "This is all I can give away," displaying his bare arm mockingly.

I gasped lowly, subconsciously lending my hands to gingerly cradle his arm. His skin was littered with traces of black and blue bruises. Rough patches of deep violet covered each inch of his pale skin; it looked like he was the lone lucky survivor of an awful car accident. "What happened to you?" I demanded in awe, feeling a strange sense of paternity wash over me - he was the little brother of one of my best friends, and I had to look out for him. I had a feeling the bruises were no accident.

I felt him shiver slightly under my touch. "It's not a big deal," he dismissed quickly, his cockiness evaporating. There was a dim pink tinge to his cheeks, and his eyes darted all around the windshield to avert my gaze.

I was about to reprimand him and argue that yes, this was a big deal, when he coaxed his arm out of my grasp with sly urgency. He rolled his sleeve down almost self-consciously. I sat stunned for a few seconds. Deciding to just not comment, I mumbled, "I think you won. Given the current evidence."

"Yeah, thought so," he sighed shakily, trying to play it off with a nervous chuckle, "It's not easy being me."

With hesitance I started, "Satoshi, you can tell me-"

"Never mind," he interrupted, his face blank, or at least disguising any emotion. If he was trying to impress me or something, it wasn't working. I couldn't give a damn about his masculine pride.

I decided to hold my tongue. I figured it wasn't polite to pry, and he obviously didn't want to call attention to it - now, anyway. A deafening silence resumed in the car. I deliberated how to break the tension, but suddenly couldn't think of anything to say. Awkwardness was a strange sensation for me - as of recently Hikaru and I were fairly social people. If anybody could break the ice, we could. For the first time in my life, I truly felt flustered.

We arrived at the coffee shop, the heaviness still present in the air. We simultaneously got out of the car and headed for the cafe. It was a quaint, pleasant little pub. Extremely tiny, but it met my ridiculously high standard tastes. We ordered quietly, then secluded ourselves to an isolated table in the corner.

Things continued to be awkward for a while, but we managed to work past that, and soon I was laughing the hardest I ever had in weeks. I found the majority of my inhibitions slipping away; he reminded me of the good old days when it was just Hikaru, me, and absolutely no bullshit. It felt amazing to actually laugh with genuine amusement. He had a very charming, natural charisma about him - I made a mental note to spend more time with him. His antics almost took my mind off of the recent drama. He made me feel better for a little while. I almost had fun. Almost.

A sudden loud crash made me jump a foot in the air. I looked over at Satoshi, who was dripping wet in a mess of coffee and broken glass shards. He looked mildly shocked but ended up chuckling airily. "Damn. This is some fragile china," he remarked with a grin, casually peering up to face his assailant - or the guy that had dropped his steaming hot coffee mug on him - for the first time.

My pulse plummeted. This can't be happening to me.

"My sincerest apologies," Kyouya purred, glaring at him with the devil's eyes, though apparently pretending to be taken aback. I groaned quietly, begrudgingly biting my tongue against the profanities. Kyouya eyed me carefully, as if to dare me to say something.

"It's no problem - Kyouya-sempai?" He gasped happily as he recognized him, his eyes widening in surprise. "Holy shit, I'm running into everyone today, huh? Literally. How've you been, sempai?"

"Please," Kyouya shrugged with a delicate smirk. "That's a thing of the past. Do call me Ohtori-san."

"Don't be a dick," I blurted with a growl, unable to help myself. "If you still let me call you sempai, he can too."

He looked like he was going to smack me for a moment. "Kaoru, I didn't even notice you there," he lied smoothly. I muttered 'Bullshit' under my breath, hoping he'd hear me. Satoshi's onyx eyes darted between the two of us, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Oh, I just remembered," the demon proclaimed pleasantly. "We have a business meeting to discuss the financials for the next Ohtori-Hitachiin joint expose in London. Why don't I just give you a ride?"

Lies. All lies. I wanted to tie him down and castrate him. And I probably could've, if only I hadn't let him get a hold of that stupid audio footage. Then I would've had the liberty to do whatever the hell I wanted to the God forsaken vessel his demonic soul calls a body.

"I'd love to stay and help clean up, but we really must be leaving," he directed his attention to Satoshi, pretending to check his watch. "I'll send a check for your dry cleaning along with a bonus due to pain and suffering to the Morinozuka dojo as soon as possible."

Satoshi looked a little stunned, turning a dazed eye to me. "Alright, then," he said brightly, confusion evident on his face. It must've been the dirty looks I was sending Kyouya.

"I'll see you later, okay?" I breathed, flashing him a meaningful look.

"Sure," he replied wistfully as we started to walk away. He looked as if he was reluctant to let me go.

Kyouya gently tapped my elbow as if to urge me forward quicker, since I was currently crawling at a snail's pace. "Don't touch me, prick," I hissed, maintaining my speed dutifully. He just smiled in return. I knew he wouldn't try anything here - which only made me more terrified for what would come later.

"Is the Shadow King jealous?" I whispered in a teasing yet serious tone. I was elated when I saw his brow twitch in annoyance at my words. I mentally made a note to spend as much time as possible with Satoshi - anything that would get him angry was a win in my book.

As we finally entered his car - I, having considered half a dozen times to make a run for it, was none too thrilled - he revved the engine with a satisfied smirk. "Now to begin your punishment," he smiled.

* * *

**AN: **Ohoho. Naughty Kyouya. Might be what you guys think, maybe not...who knows? Teehee. Reviews mean faster chapters. Till next time! **~Aly**


	4. Four

**AN:** Hey guys. Teehee. In a good mood right now. Thanks for the continued support! I have the next chapter after this written, and I have ideas for the next few plot points, but I'm feeling extra procrastination-y. Review, it helps me motivate myself! Enjoy :) **~Aly**

* * *

I idly sat on the sterilized medical covering, swinging my legs back and forth under the examination table. I found myself jittery, since I didn't do well with boredom, or anticipation. Or absolute, gut-wrenching hatred. All I wanted to do was run away.

The demon ended up driving me to his mansion. Apparently the Ohtoris, medical aficionados they were, had an entire hospital installed into a wing of the estate. He cockily explained it was for safety reasons, but I knew it was just an excuse for the family to flaunt their revolting wealth. If us Hitachiins were considered filthy rich, the Ohtoris were Greek Gods, basking in the glory of anyone stupid enough to sacrifice themselves to them. The lord knows how many pathetic businessmen have fallen victim to their greedy charms.

He guided me through the pristine, ornate hallways to their private hospital, which was bustling with doctors and nurses, despite their occupancy being nonexistent until I arrived, of course. I wondered how much they paid the staff to pretend like they were doing something to keep their image up.

He led me to a huge, white room and ordered me to wait on the examination table gourney thing until further instructions were given. He also told me to take off my shirt, a command I was blatantly ignoring. With that, he swiftly left me alone in the room, sternly scolding me with his eyes as if to warn me to behave. As if.

So I restlessly waited, wondering why the hell I was here. I assumed he wanted to make sure his plaything was in perfect condition. Or torture me with his demonic tentacles.

Eventually I heard a faint, customary knock on the door, followed by him waltzing briskly in. He hastily shut, and somewhat alarmingly for me locked, the door behind him. He was carrying a heavy looking black bag with him, and had a spotless white lab coat on with a stethoscope hanging around his neck. He set the bag down carefully on the counter as he sidestepped to the sink to wash his hands. I watched him with impatient, nervous eyes.

As he was snapping on sterile, latex gloves, he turned to face me. He was about to say something when he noticed my appearance. "I ordered you to take off your shirt," he reminded me with a hint of a threat on his tone.

I tried to act indifferent. "And I didn't listen, did I?" I bit back.

Fury flashed across his eyes - eyes, I dimly noted, that were bare. That's right; he told me he preferred to handle everything unprofessional wearing contacts instead of glasses. His naked glare was almost paralyzing.

He sighed, rubbing his hands together. He stepped closer to me, and my breathing hitched unconsciously. Mere inches away from me, he murmured in a serious voice, "Don't struggle, please. I would rather refrain from using force, but I will get violent if you don't cooperate."

I ground my teeth together tensely as he started lightly unbuttoning my shirt. I refused to meet his eyes, but I could feel his gaze on me. I stared at the sanitized wall behind him, trying to stay as still as possible. In the back of my mind I registered the uncomfortable way his cold fingers would linger on my skin. It felt incredibly intimate. I also couldn't help noticing how rough and careless he was treating the delicate buttons on my designer blouse, which was black territory for any Hitachiin. Touch our clothes and we kick your ass.

"Kaoru, you may be wondering why you're here." He muttered simply as he finished undoing the last clasp.

I let the thin fabric crumple at my sides as he slipped it off my shoulders. As he yanked the shirt away from my wrists, I winced and answered plainly, "No shit, Sherlock."

He smirked, giving one of my wrists a playful squeeze. I edged away from him. He ignored my mocking tone, though I half expected him to reprimand me. "The answer's quite simple," he continued softly, his face millimeters from mine.

He leaned back and adjusted the stethoscope so he was making use of the earpieces. I couldn't suppress a shiver as he gently pressed the ice cold metal to my exposed chest. "I've been in need of a personal assistant for a while now - as stress in the company has increased and my pressure to inherit the company has doubled, I've found that my well being has suffered because of it. Not only do I have a standing chance in taking over the business, but I am also doing quite well in private investments and have a small fortune of my very own. Thus far my pride has constricted me from taking advantage of outside help, but I recently found myself in the possession of a certain advantageous audio file - one which you are well aware of. The timing seemed right, and I am never one to pass up on a golden opportunity. So I seized it."

I shuddered once more as he pressed the freezing stethoscope to the hollow beneath my throat. "You're blackmailing me," I corrected bitterly.

"If you'd prefer to look at it that way, then yes," he allowed, tugging on my shoulder so he could access the pulse on my back. "I'd rather see it as non-refusable motivation."

I scowled, rolling my eyes. He pulled back from me and removed the stethoscope from his neck. He picked up a different instrument and began examining my ears, eyes, and throat, making insignificant notes in his sinister black notebook every now and then. All of the checks he was doing were routine, but they seemed redundant to me - like busy work. He knew as well as I did that I was completely healthy. He continued to take my blood pressure, temperature, test my reflexes. The silence was poignant.

Eventually I asked, "What does being your 'personal assistant' entail, exactly?"

He looked up from his notebook for a moment, flashing me a quick smile. "Nothing that should be too difficult for you. As long as you're willing."

I was getting fed up with his vagueness. Though I was known to be the more patient and calm twin, I wasn't completely exempt from our family's infamous unstable temper. I stewed over him for a minute, managing to control my irritation. I decided to just keep my mouth shut - I would find out soon enough, wouldn't I? And besides, I had to admit it'd be a bad idea to anger him.

He continued poking and prodding me until he was apparently satisfied. With a pleased grin, he announced, "You are in mint condition."

"I'm not a toy," I muttered defiantly, but he ignored my comment. He could be so predictable, the bastard.

He made a final note and said, "Seeing as us Ohtoris are quite stagnant on the issue of health, I had to make sure you were a suitable candidate for my tastes."

"I could've figured that out on my own, smartass," I shot, crossing my arms. I was tired of being treated with inferiority. "And can I put my shirt back on?" I asked, embarrassed by the prolonged exposure.

"I wouldn't bother," he quipped, and I gulped. "In fact, you might as well strip entirely. You're going to be changing clothes."

"What?" I demanded, my voice hollow.

He began to unzip the black bag he brought with him. Once it was undone he replied wryly, "My original intention was to wait until next weekend to settle you into your job; after all, today is a Sunday, and we have exams next week." What the hell was he planning to do to me that could interfere with my studies? "But I suppose plans do change..." He finished with a twinge in his tone.

This made me grin a little bit at the memory. "Who knew the low blood pressure evil lord could be so jealous?"

"It's not envy," he interrupted defensively. I smiled wider. "It's more like possession."

"It's the same thing," I insisted, savoring the way his eyebrows twitched in pure agitation. I loved being right.

He rummaged through the bag, his elbows jutting out in harsh stabs. "Be careful of what you say," he warned in a quiet voice. "There are many other ways I can ruin your life besides this audio tape. Remember that."

"So that proves it," I hissed. "You are trying to ruin my life. That assistant thing is just a bullshit excuse."

"I'm not trying to ruin your life," he reassured me. I cringed as he brought his fingers under my chin to lift my head up. Staring into my eyes with fire in his pupils, he said mildly, "You are correct, however, on the assistant thing being a bullshit excuse."

"What?" I sputtered, dumbfounded. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? "For what?" I demanded, furious my guess was right. "Why are you really doing this? And why me?" My temperament had finally bubbled to the surface.

He shook his head, going back to shifting through the black bag. "You'll figure it out. You're not stupid." You've got that right.

I opened my mouth, but he cut me off with a hand, giving me a piercing look. By this point I was beyond pissed. I didn't like being played with. "Take off your pants," he ordered. I didn't register what he said, still pissed and confused.

He got impatient. When I didn't respond, he wordlessly tugged at the button of my jeans and yanked the zipper down. I felt my face flush as he inched the skinny fabric down my legs, regretting my stubbornness. I couldn't allow my selfishness to cause my clothes distress.

I felt somewhat violated as I was left naked except for my silk black briefs. His eyes searched my body in an unbearably awkward way. I tried to pretend I was somewhere far away from here. With some really hot guys, and no memories of my previous life. And lots of liquor.

He finally retracted something from the medical bag. "So you won't try to run off," he smiled.

Before I could even think to react, he had hooked one hand tightly onto my shoulder and was using the other to latch something thick around my neck. I tried to push him off, but his grip was iron tight. After successfully clasping the heavy material around my neck, he stepped back smugly.

My hand flew up to touch it, and with shock I discovered it was unreasonably constricting. It was some kind of smooth leather material, tied like a choker against the skin of my throat. "What the hell is this?"

He shrugged easily. "A collar," he answered obviously. I was too confused and freaked out to say anything.

He lightly grabbed my hand; I nearly jumped at the sudden contact. He carefully brought my fingers up to touch the side of the leather, where some elegant lettering was carved into the fabric. I looked at him questioningly, and he whispered, "It says 'Property of Kyouya'. To remind you who you belong to."

I gaped at him. "I'm not wearing this," was all I could manage.

"You will when you're with me," he argued smoothly. "You'll find my methods of persuasion very convincing, anyway," he mumbled after a thought.

"I won't-"

Before I could whine anymore, he continued crisply, "Let's just say this collar is extremely muiltitalented. Much like myself." I scoffed shallowly as he finished; milord and his narcissism were really starting to rub off on the brunette. And what did that even mean? What was he planning to do, choke me? Poison me?

I stuttered incoherently for a moment, but he pressed on. "And this," he drawled as he brought my fingers to a metal loop near the nape of my neck, "Is where I attach the leash."

"Leash?" I gasped, my skin paling. Was this some kind of sick, sado-masochistic scandal or something? Did he expect me to be his slave? Though, I thought in the back of my mind, I practically was his slave, given the circumstances. But that didn't mean I could be treated like a common dog. Or some bizarre sex object. This was getting ridiculous.

"I'll save you the embarrassment for now," he murmured. "But if you disobey me, I won't hesitate to use it. And the collar must stay on at all times."

I didn't have any words to say. Wearing a collar was extremely degrading - and call it narcissistic or superficial or even ignorant, but I was rich, and I was raised with aristocracy. There could be nothing more humiliating than being reduced to ranks lower than that of a domesticated animal. But I knew I couldn't do anything about it. I was powerless.

So I let it go. Truthfully, the collar wasn't the biggest fashion atrocity I'd ever seen. But I was reaching my limit of tolerance again. Fast.

He pulled another article of clothing out from the bag, this one far more terrifying. He let it unravel in front of him as he announced, "This is your new uniform."

Raised as a fashion designer's son, I had long since learned to scrutinize every single thread in front of me. Hikaru and I were the ultimate fashion primadonnas; if your outfit was hideous, we'd make sure you knew it.

My stomach sunk as I saw the disaster in front of me.

To put it simply, it was some kind of a French maid leotard. It was basically the classic French maid mini dress put into a tight fitting, provocative, near-lingerie leotard. There were mounds of black and white ruffles and lace polluting random areas, and intricate buttons and snaps where they weren't needed. It was obviously intended for a woman; though the cups were definitely size A, the chest area was intricate and defined and extremely low cut. There was practically no space for an ass of any kind - it could've been a thong for all the support it looked like it gave. The entire thing looked like it could barely cover a newborn.

"Fuck that," I blurted, horrified by the monstrosity. It looked like porn had thrown up all over a ballerina.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You're going to wear it," he growled dangerously. For once, I wasn't intimidated. Nothing could scare me more than bad fashion sense.

I shook my head vigorously. "No," I blatantly insisted. I wasn't afraid to crossdress - although since this was a leotard, it was somewhat unisex, with its basically nonexistent crotch area. I thought even a mini skirt could've covered more skin than this spool of threads. I was more afraid of any rational person seeing me in something so hideously whoreish.

"Kaoru, you are wearing this even if I have to tie you down and force it on you myself," he hissed firmly. I still wasn't scared.

He suddenly looked like he had a brilliant idea. Damn him. "What a coincidence," he mused, fingering the lace subconsciously. His tone was venomous. "Your first duty happens to be helping me test a new product that we currently have in beta."

He gave me a devilish, fatal smirk. I hated my life. "This would be perfect means to test it on."

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**AN: **Hohoho, what is Kyouya planning? Review and you'll find out :3 Also, does anybody else totally see Kaoru only caring about his clothes? Haha, I get a kick out of that. Till next time, basta la pasta...hasta...mmm hetalia okay bye lol **~Aly**


	5. Five

**AN: **Early update & longer chapter for you guys! Plus I have a lot of the story completely planned out now, which makes me feel a little better...and this chappie is really juicy ;) But that's it for good news. Bad news is I have absolutely no more pre-written chapters left, and I am dealing with awful procrastination and writer's block. Realistically...I prob won't update on schedule next time. I wish I could promise you guys otherwise, but I don't wanna lie xD Review, it'll give me motivation! **~Aly**

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He somehow managed to drag me across the house in my only-underwear-and-collar ensemble. He wouldn't let me get dressed for the journey. He apparently didn't want to waste time - though I guessed his ulterior motives were otherwise. I think the only way he managed to get me through the walk was by constantly threatening to break out the leash, which got me to cooperate for a couple of moments at a time.

He yanked me by my ear, kicking and screaming, all the way to the other end of the house. It was the most mortifying experience of my life. The looks I received from passing maids and butlers were beyond embarrassing. I was sure they'd never seen anything as childish and improper as this spectacle; I felt like I was being taken to the guillotine.

Eventually I begrudgingly arrived at the products wing of the manor, disgruntled and irritated. I felt so exposed, and unnatural. Hikaru and I had fought to keep up a wall our entire lives; it was difficult to get used to letting others into our world. It's been years since we tore that old wall down, but I still find myself uncomfortable by others every now and then. And now was undoubtedly one of those times. I've never been so violated in my life. I just wanted to put on some goddamn clothes.

While I struggled he managed to pull me into a deep section of a larger room, which was littered with piles of rejected products and burn outs. We continued down a cluttered hallway to a room that was entirely empty except for a small, industrial cardboard box in the corner.

He pushed me inside impatiently, closing and locking the door behind us. He threw the bag in the corner and slowly dimmed the lights. If I was a girl, I'm sure a million red flags would've been waving in my head - even as a guy, a few already were. If anything screamed 'rapist' or 'sadistic kidnapping cannibal', it was Kyouya.

He straightened the hem of his long sleeves, nonchalantly commanding, "Please lie down." More red flags.

He apparently was too redundant to realize I would never follow his orders. After a moment of inactivity from me, he physically reached his limit. He firmly guided my shoulders down with a small noise building at the back of his throat in frustration. Though I feebly resisted, he managed to effectively push me down hard enough so I was sitting in a sprawl on the carpet. I flushed a deep scarlet as he swung his leg over me to straddle my waist. I couldn't help noticing his proximity; our chests were brushing slightly, and his pelvis was pressed tightly against my hipbones. My agitation only grew; I didn't need this to add to my discomfort.

He dragged both the cardboard box and the black bag over to us. He began tearing at the cardboard, haphazardly forcing it open.

"Our private police force recently produced a new innovation in criminal captivity," he murmured, holding my still struggling body down to the carpet. "I believe we will be able to kill two birds with one stone here," he seethed.

My stomach dropped when his hand emerged from the box. He was holding a shiny, very heavy looking pair of handcuffs. The short chain connecting them looked like it could support a skyscraper of it had to. The Ohtoris never did anything half-assed.

And I was suddenly very terrified of what would happen if - or more accurately when - he got me on those handcuffs.

It wasn't much of a fight. He was already on top of me, and was apparently that much stronger. I managed to get a few cold blows in there, swinging my limbs blindly in all directions, but nothing could deter him.

With a forceful grip he yanked my forearms upwards over my head, and roughly grabbed the handcuffs. He cuffed them together tightly, leaving no room for escape. I was completely vulnerable.

Once he was done with his handiwork he reclined back on his knees to hold down my thighs with his sturdy calves. I was quietly steaming with irritation under him. He brought a hand up to casually touch his cheek.

Confused, I saw there was a light, but nevertheless prominent, scratch across one of his cheekbones. Had I done that? One of the many benefits of having claws. I triumphantly grinned at him. He wasn't as tough as he thought.

"Got you," I boasted. Granted it wasn't exactly a super amazing feat given the circumstances, but I still felt smug. At least in a certain sense I wasn't making this easy for him.

His gaze was deadly. If there was anything Kyouya hated, it was a flaw. The Ohtoris strived to be perfect in every way imaginable. They definitely weren't the type to get injuries of any kind, regardless of the severity. "You're going to pay for this," he purred darkly.

"Oh, I'm so scared," I mocked, regaining some of my confidence. I started to notice the uncomfortable strain on my muscles from the position I was in, but I tried to ignore it.

"Sarcasm won't help you here, Hitachiin," he muttered, and I was a little taken aback by the unfamiliarity of him using my last name. I thought he was beyond that. Was he trying to intimidate me? Wasn't working.

He temporarily lifted his weight off me to scrounge through the bag, his nose wrinkled in irritation. I hastily took this moment of weakness to begin my second escape attempt. We Hitachiins never gave up - at least until we got bored.

The handcuffs were so heavy I could barely twitch a muscle in my wrists or palms. I squirmed my fingers around the cool metal, but I wasn't able to make the lock budge. I had significantly more mobility in my legs, so I tried to build momentum in my ankles. I swung my ankles around his body as forcefully as I could, hoping to hook him off or at least disrupt his balance. I groaned in defeated exasperation as he easily evaded me by sliding back so he was trapping my knees under his weight, which effectively eliminated the functionality of my legs.

Grunting in annoyance I tried getting more creative, like using my elbows or collarbone to hit him, but I didn't get very far. In a last stitch effort, I twisted my body to lie at a slight angle, then bucked my hips up as hard as I could, trying to knock him off. It didn't work in the slightest - in fact, the only thing I actually managed to do was ram my crotch directly into his, which only added to my discomfort. To add to my mortification, he firmly pressed his bare palm dangerously low on my abdomen to pin down my midsection.

"Don't touch me," I couldn't help but bark roughly. I could only focus on how his almost painful hold on my flat stomach was centimeters away from my groin. How the hell could he have so many muscles in one arm, anyway? It felt like a brick wall was weighing me down.

"It's certainly a little too late for that, now, isn't it?" He purred lowly, an agitated gasp growling through his teeth. I snarled mutely in the back of my throat. His demonic eyes glistened in amusement at my struggling.

He kept one hand securely planted on my pelvis, and used the other to sift through the infamous black bag. I frowned at his smirk of delight - he apparently found what he was searching for. His hand soon slowly emerged with a pair of razor-sharp, sparkling scissors.

"No," I whispered immediately, my eyes widening in fear. I instantly knew what he was planning to do, and suddenly I didn't care about my ego or pride. Screw the tough guy persona. This was fucking serious. I had to resort to begging, and in any rational state of mind I would've laughed at the pathetic tone of my slightly quivering voice. "You can't," I pleaded hollowly, feeling my voice breaking in all the wrong places. I could practically feel the life leave my soul.

He looked somewhat incredulous at my reaction. "Don't worry, pet," he mumbled, a small, mischievous smile decorating his devilish features. "I promise I'll compensate you some other time. You can trust me."

Pet? I would've laughed if I wasn't so close to crying. "This isn't about money!" I choked desperately, squirming into the carpet to avoid the fabric butcher. "I'll wear the fucking maid costume, I don't care! Just let me take them off!" I whined, my breathing ragged.

"In order to do that, I'd have to remove the handcuffs - and I'm not risking another escape attempt," he scolded with a grin. So he finally figured out my weakness. Good for him.

"Kyouya-sempai, don't-" I pleaded brokenly, thrashing beneath my constrictions. I could feel urgent tears trickling beneath my eyelids.

"Stop moving. I don't want any blood on my hands."

The blades were getting alarmingly close to the hem of my boxers. I didn't care in the slightest that if he actually went through with this, he would see me completely naked. In fact, that was the last thing to ever enter my mind. I could only comprehend the soft, innocent, so blissfully naive and oblivious fabric underneath his murderous fingers.

With a quiet whimper, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my tears to keep from falling.

I heard rather than felt the first cut. The crisp sound of metal clashing against metal echoed in the small room, then I felt the soft flutter of thin silk against my thigh. I fought to contain a sob. That precious silk, so ravenously and savagely torn apart...may Kyouya rot in hell for destroying something so divine as a pair of limited edition designer underwear. May his soul burn for eternity for brutally murdering an innocent article of clothing, with such inexperienced and clumsy hands...it wasn't fair. I wanted to die.

With a final scrape he pulled back, haphazardly tossing the scissors somewhere out of my line of vision. I stared at the ceiling, still in shock. Scraps of the beautiful, couture material fluttered around my thighs, slipping and crumbling to the carpet below. My soul was dying.

He started to crinkle the remains in his fists and deposit the ripped fabric in some compartment of his bag. I internally scoffed; it was just like him to want to keep the remains of my used underwear rather than throw them away, the fucking creep.

By this point I wasn't denying it - I knew the reason he was blackmailing me was far from innocent. I didn't know how far he was going to take this, but I knew I wasn't going to put up with this shit for long. It was one thing to get sexually harassed, or even molested - Hikaru and I were infamous for being notoriously open with our sexuality. Back in the Host Club, the only thing we ever did was be sex idols for the girls. I was used to stupid acts like this. Sure, the only experience I'd ever gotten in terms of intimacy was with Hikaru, and that was only the twincest act in the club, and those weird blindfold-handjobs we used to give each other when we were going through puberty. Other than that, I was a happy virgin, and I could care less about that status. Regardless, I didn't really care.

On the other hand, the thing I really did care about was my clothes. I couldn't help it; they were my one true joy in life, my calling. Destroying my clothes was like destroying my God.

I let out a hushed, quivering breath, glad the trauma was over. He finished collecting the last scrap and looked at me, then raised an eyebrow. "Why are you crying?"

My eyes widened, and I dimly registered the dampness rolling down my cheeks. Well wasn't I pathetic?

He almost gently ran the pad of his thumb down my cheekbone, wiping away the stray tear. I refused to meet his eyes, trying to muster up my dignity again. There was nothing I could do now. "I'm not crying, dumbass," I managed, my voice pitched a few octaves.

He rolled his eyes, glaring daggers at the carpet underneath me. As he carefully wiped the wetness under my eyes, he muttered, "You shouldn't get attached to inanimate objects. It's superficial, and materialistic."

A startled giggle gasped through my lips. "Superficial? Kyouya, I'm a fashion designer. My clothes are my life."

"Not anymore," he snarled firmly, his eyes burning into mine, demanding my full attention. I was momentarily distracted. "I'm your life now, do you understand me? And don't call me Kyouya."

I gaped at him, my mouth parted slightly. Every word this guy said shocked me. A nonconsensual wave of tears came. I felt so worthless and immature, but I guessed all of my pent up frustrations had finally come to a head, and I found I couldn't prevent the light tears streaming down my flushed face.

"Stop. Crying. Be quiet." He menacingly growled. I was too baffled to comprehend anything, but eventually the waterworks ceased, and we were just left staring into each other's eyes.

He sighed, resting his forehead against my bare shoulder for a moment. Then he stood up, leaving me lying sprawled on the carpet. Once his weight was off of mine I remembered I was now naked, and flushed briefly before regaining my pride. So what if he saw me naked. Let the pervert see whatever he wanted to. He was a fucking psychopath.

He loomed over me for a moment, studying every inch of my porcelain skin. He bent down to the bag, unraveling the horrendous maid costume. Still bent, his face in close proximity of my lower abdomen, he ordered, "Spread your legs."

I smiled back at him, all traces of tears gone. His sudden outburst had awakened a strange, rebellious edge in me. I was pissed as hell about my clothes, and I was tired of being weak.

He wasn't going to win this game. Modesty wasn't even in my vocabulary. I opened my legs, bending my knees slightly. Better give him a show, the ruthless bastard.

He apparently liked what he saw. My half-deranged grin never faded. "Happy to oblige, master," I hissed, mentally tearing apart his flesh. I wasn't going down without a fight.

He stood up straight, chuckling under his breath. Apparently he liked the nickname.

Without warning he yanked my ankle up towards him, dragging me a little. With one leg in the air, he hesitated, eyes roaming my bare lower half - no doubt mentally taking pictures.

After he was satisfied, he started to shimmy the itchy leotard up my leg. He sank to his knees and lifted my other leg to hitch the material over my ass and up my back. He unclipped the metal link between the two handcuffs in order to twist my arms through the sleeves; the bands on my wrists were still too heavy to allow me any mobility in my now asleep hands, though. He lifted my torso into a sitting position to clasp the buttons on the back, before letting my limp body fall backwards once more.

So he had finally gotten me into the fucking thing. The horrendous tool and lace seemed to mock me from every painstaking angle, but I was beyond caring at this point. The death of my boxers had completely drained me of all energy.

He hovered above me, his hands on either side of my head and knees beside my hipbones. His eyes glinted with triumph. After a few seconds of silence, he breathed, "Looks like the handcuffs worked, huh?" He dipped his head into the crook of my neck, just below the thick collar. I froze as a spot of warmth pooled onto the clammy skin below his hovering lips, causing a raking shudder to crawl up my spine. "After all, that's why we're here."

My breathing hitched and faltered as I felt his tongue dart out to taste my skin. So this was it. So much for subtlety. He nudged my jaw up with his nose, and I involuntarily craned my neck upwards. I could feel hot puffs of air fanning along the curves of my neck, and I grimaced, closing my eyes. I heard him snicker quietly, nuzzling deeper and tightening his grip on my arms.

He sucked on my skin, dragging his teeth over the quickly bruising skin. His hand slowly crept up my exposed leg until it brushed lightly over my groin. I tried to ignore it, half-heartedly begging this wasn't going to happen - because even if I was this self-proclaimed sex god, I was still terrified of whatever he was concocting. And I was suddenly positive I liked my current state of virginity.

"I like the outfit, too," he added, smiling against my skin. His fingers crept roughly inside the thin fabric, and rested, unmoving, against my length.

I winced, cursing my body for its stupid, troublesome reactions. He chuckled darkly against the puckered and violet skin of my neck. He began to lightly skim his fingers over my foreskin, and I hissed through my teeth. He brushed a sensitive area and a nonconsensual whimper began at the back of my parched throat before I could suppress it.

"That's it," he whispered, dragging his teeth to my defined jaw line and nibbling near my earlobe. He went a little faster, lazily pumping my half-hard erection.

I cringed, screwing my eyes shut and trying to focus my attention on something else, but I could only concentrate on what his hand was doing to me. Exhaling sharply, as a final defense mechanism I stammered with a protesting mewl, "F-fuck you...s-stop...fucking p-prick."

His ministrations suddenly faltered, and I cautiously opened my eyes to meet his. He was staring at me warily, a crease in his brow. He looked mildly pissed off. Did I ruin the moment with my indecency? Fan-fucking-tastic. I was about to say something snarky, but he cut me off by withdrawing his hand from the damp leotard and abruptly jumping off of me. He stood up and paced back a few steps, leaving me in a breathless, awkward heap under all the ruffles.

I stared up at him, pinching my eyebrows together in confusion. Why did he stop? Didn't he want to get what he put all his effort into? For some strange reason, his pause caused a blow in my self esteem. What, now I wasn't good enough for the bastard? What the hell was going on here?

He stood frozen to his spot. After a short staring contest, he cast his eyes downwards. "Down the hall, last door on the left," he forced through his teeth. I was baffled by his hostility. What happened to the sadistic, sex-craved demon who was jerking me off five seconds ago? "Take whatever clothes you want. Leave the leotard on the floor."

I didn't move. He snarled under his breath, glaring at me through agitated irises. "Get the fuck out of here." With that, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I laid there, stunned. The sensation in my lower regions had not subsided completely, but left me feeling empty and uncomfortable. I was somewhat relieved that I wasn't going to be violated today, but was more confused and frustrated than anything. I didn't like being played with. I was done with messing around; why couldn't he just do it straight, get it over with? I hated all this confusing bullshit. I despised him to the core.

I shook my head, trying to shake the wistful feeling. I resented this guy - I shouldn't feel bad about whatever internal turmoil he was going through. I should just forget about it. And take a really long, scolding hot shower. Or, on second thought, the coldest shower in history. Anything to scrub all traces of him off my body.

Trying to repress my confusion and focus on getting my ass out of there, I bolted up and followed his instructions, quickly changing into the most attractive outfit I could find in what I guessed to be a storage room. I contemplated ripping the god awful lingerie to shreads after all the trauma it's caused me, but begrudgingly decided I would hate the repercussions more. I tried as hard as I could to rip off the collar, but I couldn't get it to budge. After minutes of senseless tugging, I settled with just readjusting it to conceal the violet hickies the Devil had made. I departed as soon as I could, ignoring the bustling butlers and maids strolling past.

Once I had practically jogged to the outskirts of his property and called my chauffeur to come pick me up, I groaned.

I forgot. It was Sunday. I had school tomorrow. With him.

This was going to be hell.

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**AN: **I bet you sexually frustrated fangirls were begging for a lemon. Muahaha. In due time, kiddies. Reviews are much obliged! **~Aly**


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